


Birthdays

by Kira_K



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: 5 Times, Birthdays, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:44:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5037913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kira_K/pseuds/Kira_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shortfic about Erik Lehnsherr's birthdays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthdays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uran/gifts).



> Happy birthday uran!

13

Thirteen should have been the day he became a man. And, in a way, it still was even though Erik counted the day of his adulthood from the day his mother died and not from Bar Mitzvah. 

30

Erik wasn’t quite sure how was that he came to be here – in the United States, in a gigantic castle that tried to be ancient but couldn’t by the sole imperfection of it being in the US of A – in a quite comfortable bed with a fascinating man to share it with. Still, it was one of his best birthdays he could ever remember; something that made what happened in Cuba all the more bitter.

41

Magnetism was just another form of the invisible forces that turned the Earth. Erik was forced to extend his senses, to focus on his own blood’s iron content, to focus on the way gravity itself could be brought under his control. It was an idle study, for it wouldn’t be enough to stop plastic bullets or the electricity but Magneto had studied his own powers with a diligence that would have made even Herr Doktor proud. 

68

He never even noticed when did he became old. But the mirror showed the truth: his hair was a shock of white, and the wrinkles around his eyes were deep and multiplied by the hundreds. Yet, the tattoo of numbers on his arm was still a shock of black sacrilege, and his hands were still drenched in blood. 

Seeing Charles was another shock: bald, and dignified in the wheelchair, blue eyes piercing but warm with remembered love, and faith in humanity. Erik hated to disappoint him but he was too old to change his ways; too old to believe in fairy tales where the power of love saved the world. The world was doomed, anyway. Why not go down with it?

84

He was old, older than dirt, and he was tired. He had fought for long, he had fought well – and it was time to rest. Erik opened the door to the mansion (still not an ancient castle, especially as it was blown up, burnt down, and the epicentre of other small disasters before being rebuilt from the Xavier millions) and walked into the study. He wasn’t stopped: the students, in the self-centeredness of all teenagers, barely noticed any adult. 

There was a chess set, a bottle of wine and glasses, and warmth from central heating. Erik sat, his knees made a familiar popping noise, and then he opened the bottle. His senses sang with the awareness of all the metal and gravity and magnetic fields but his focus was snatched up by the approaching wheelchair that became as familiar as the plain ring on his finger. It was old fashioned, sure, but Erik was an old man, and he was allowed to have his—

“Eccentricity, really?” Charles asked; his face arranged into a frown but his tone warm with love and teasing.

“Well, what else would you call it?” Erik asked and brought the wheelchair around the table with the smallest of efforts. It was routine.

Charles seemed to think hard before his hand found Erik’s and squeezed. “How about marriage?”

~the end~


End file.
